Rose and Thorn: The Love Story of Sikes and Nancy
by selphiealmasy8
Summary: A love story centering on the histories of Sike and Nancy, the years before they met and the years leading up to their eventual fates.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Rose and Thorn: The Love Story of Sikes and Nancy

Summary: A story concerning the characters and relationship between Bill Sikes and Nancy from Charles Dickens' "Oliver Twist",

Rating: Probably an R

Disclaimer: Charles Dickens owns the rights to the characters he created from "Oliver Twist". I don't mean to step on his toes. Or his ghost's toes for that matter as well.

Note: This is going to be dark. I warn anyone reading it that it will feature some serious issues that I can only hope I will handle well. The first part of the story belongs to Sikes. The second will be Nancy's.

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**_ Prologue_**

Even as the girl lay dying, thoughts ran through her mind, past the pain so slow and terrible. She was still alive but her death was as certain as the love she felt for the man who had killed her. The light was fading and her eyes were still open. She hoped that when the light was gone completely, and she no longer saw that which haunted this cursed earth, she would find herself somewhere kinder in the presence of a God more merciful than the One so many had vowed would condemn her. If He were there she would pray for her killer's sake as well.

She tried to bring her eyes to his face, not to implore him to stop, it was too late for that, much too late, but rather she wanted to die looking at the one thing she had ever been thankful for, the one thing she had loved in her whole painful life, even if his face was marked with fury and horror.

The horror was a strange comfort to her. He cared enough to be disturbed by the sight of her dying.

It had been love that had killed her.

Since she had first realized her love for the man standing before her, she had known that he would be the death of her. Whatever he had seen in his life, whatever he had gone through, had made him cruel; His cruelty was in violence and in the harsh words he chose to use. But then what other way had they ever been treated? What other words had ever been said to them? He was not likely to forgive nor was he able to listen and let his anger cool. After their first meeting, she had seen her lover's face reflected in each boy in Fagin's gang. They were all versions of him in his youth, before she had ever known him. Oliver was the boy the robber had been when he could still claim innocence. Before someone like Fagin had taken that from him. Maybe in the end he had become a thief to echo the crime that had been committed against him. She could not look at Oliver without seeing the man she loved as he had once been. In her heart she had wanted so desperately to save the boy, not only to redeem her own soul, but her lover's as well.

It was this love for her killer, his hands now as bloody as the handkerchief she was holding, which still coursed through her heart, a love as equally fierce as his violence and rage. She realized that it was her love for the robber that had kept safe whatever goodness had remained in her heart. She had kept this alive by being allowed to love the man. Her killer had not had this blessing. For so many years before she had even met him, he had lived without anyone to love or make him remember that emotion which was the most redeeming in humanity. Nancy could forgive him for the brutality he had shown her. She could forgive him this murder.

It had been love that had saved her.

Her love for the man called Bill Sikes.


	2. The Boy The Dog

Note: I'm winging this one, which means that I'm writing without a net. Usually I write my work, in longhand, on paper and then type it out. Here I want to get this finished so I'm typing as I go along. Please forgive me if this turns out horrible! Plus I also made the mistake of doing a prologue not attached to the first chapter so it kind of screwed things up. However, I've tried to remedy this by attaching chapter one and two together. I don't know how good I will be at historical accuracy so I'm pleading for mercy! That said I hope you all enjoy!

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**_Part One: The Thief_**

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Chapter One: The Boy

The boy was not loved. It was the first thing he learned. The moment he smiled was the moment he realized it was worthless. He had smiled for his first 7 years until he knew this and the smile, a beautiful thing for its innocence and charm, was replaced by a scowl.

His parents liked this better. It resembled their own expressions. It irritated them less to discover that their child shared their own depression and anger concerning the life others would feel blessed to have and they felt merely cursed.

Mr. Sikes was a large man. His face perpetually unshaven, his eyes always blood-shot. He had found a wife. He had found a new life in London, having escaped from Russia several years before the boy had come about. But the new life was just as rotten as the last, Sikes realized, and the wife he had taken with him was no pleasure and the eventual appearance of the boy only another chain around his ankle.

Mrs. Sikes, and she legally carried the name which was rare and not pleasant for her, was a thin angular woman. She shared her husband's birthplace and race, being Russian and Jewish at the same time, and she had once shared his hope that they would find a better place in London than the life they had faced in the desolation of the only place they had ever known. The only pleasant part about the departure had been the fleeing, she now realized for that was the only time she had had some hope.

London was not kind to them. They were obviously Russian and they were obviously Jewish: Two things that would not aid them in fitting into an already complicated class system. They tried to adopt the language of the city. They tried to deny their religion and race but it did little good in the end.

Both had been troubled to discover that Mrs. Sikes was pregnant. They had considered the options and decided that they should keep whatever pathetic thing was inside the woman. Maybe that would make them acceptable to the loathsome crowd or at least bring them some kind of pity. When what they ended up with was a tiny red thing that screamed all the time and added to a population of children that was also unloved and uncared for. They realized their mistake. Still there was nothing to be done about it but to have it share in their misery. The best thing they could say about the child they called William was that he was quiet enough.

Mr. Sikes often complained that he wished he was larger. Then he may be useful and may attract some business for manual labour. Mrs. Sikes remained silent on the subject. He usually blended in with the ragged and dirty walls of their house. So when he talked, sneezed or coughed it served as a reminder of his existence and startled them.

The child watched the behaviour of his parents. He saw that his father would often hit the woman. She would screech and moan about it but she rarely put up a fight. Often her face was bruised sometimes her legs and arms. She would yell back at him. The only weapon she chose was her voice, shrill as a banshee, and that was bad enough in Bill's opinion. Whenever she did this he would go out into the street to escape. Soon they noticed his disappearance and would find him outside sitting on the cobble steps. They would bring him back inside, as if to suffer their torment some more.

Mr. Sikes took to disappearing. Often he would not come home for days. During these times Bill noticed his mother's mood would brighten. She would even smile a few times. When the man came back she almost cringed in disgust, preparing for more sorrow.

One time the boy found them arguing at the top of the stairs.

"Throw me down!" the woman hissed at the man. "I have no use for it! Not another one! Look what happened with him!"

Both parents looked at Bill. Though they both seemed to be repelled by the sight of him, Bill noticed that his father still did not do what his wife pleaded for. She looked at him, sighed and with an angry shout threw herself down the stairs with barely a second thought.

Once down there Mr. Sikes stormed off once more, not caring to find out how she fared. "I'll get blamed for that," he yelled at his son as he passed by. "Murder it will be!"

Bill walked quietly towards the stairs. He stared down at the bleakness of it. Swallowing hard, he descended. His mother lay in a clump at the bottom. At first he thought she was crying. It was only as he neared that he realized she was laughing.

"No more of you and the likes of you," she said to her only child and looked at the top of the stairs where once her husband had stood.

* * *

Chapter Two: Dog

On one occasion Mr. Sikes returned with a small dog. Bill's eyes widened as he saw his father with the animal. He had wanted pets before and indeed had come to feel some raw affection for the rats that lived in the alley and basement. Once he had clung onto a cat that had cried out from the touch and scratched his cheek. It suited the rest of the boy. He had not escaped from the way his father treated his mother.

Still he had become use to it.

The boy ran towards the dog. The dog, a mixed breed and obviously uncared for, wagged its tail in delight and licked the child's face.

Mr. Sikes looked at his son and frowned. "Well you feed him, boy. Find a way. Then you can keep him. The stupid thing followed me home from Kelly's."

Whom Kelly was Bill didn't care. He now had a dog.

He found a way to feed the creature. Sometimes he took to robbing the food stands that were placed trying to lure business. If he was caught he tried to run away as best he could, his odd frame preventing him from succeeding once or twice.

Still he had stolen enough to keep the dog fed and relatively happy.

Once Mrs. Sikes had looked at the creature. She hated it quite a bit but it kept her son occupied and out of her way. She had taken to stealing her husband's tobacco and she would often blame it on the dog.

"He's better fed than the rest of us," she stated.

Mr. Sikes turned and found out that what his wife had said was true.

In a few weeks time, Bill looked around and could not find the dog he called "Bitch": The word his father often called his mother.

He had not asked his parents for they would not care.

"Come on son," Mr. Sikes said once and smiled foully. "We're having a real meal today."

Still distressed over what had happened to the animal he loved, Bill had to be dragged back to the table.

"I'll tell you where your dog is after the meal," Mr. Sikes shouted out in a way to make it easier to bring the boy to the table.

They ate in silence. The meat was unusual and tasted odd to Bill.

"Now you eat every bit of that. You should be lucky to have it!" the man shouted. "Then I will tell you where your pet is.

Bill did as he was told.

After he had finished his father smiled widely. "You want to know where your dog is?" he asked.

His son nodded.

"It is in your stomach," Mr. Sikes yelled out.

Bill turned pale and a loud moan escaped from his lips. He dropped to the ground and was sick. His father stood and kicked him.

"It's not right that you love a beast more than me and it isn't right that I should have to starve! You should be feeding me."

The boy continued to cry and no matter how many times his father kicked him he still wailed in anguish.

It was the first time his mother had ever felt sorry for him.


End file.
